Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (31 page)

the tally might as well be twenty. At this point, the exhausted king

toyed with the idea of letting Tahir win. Unwise. The prickly

Curamian would sense any deception on his part. The weight

defeating his muscles informed Gustav the duel had worn on long

enough. Despite his draining energy, Gustav decided he wanted to

win. He also wanted to impress Tahir.

The dangerous answer tickled Gustav’s thoughts. The Ilmarin

feint, a risky move taught to him by a warrior wizard, played out in

his mind. The move meant Gustav left his chest unprotected for a

second. He swooped in from the left side, jabbed Tahir’s stomach and

twisted away from Tahir’s thrusting blade. His blade swirled up along

Tahir’s. Gustav nearly forced the startled Tahir to stab him in the

neck. A snapping jerk to the side saved him. Gustav whipped up his

blade. The tip struck Tahir’s jerkin directly below the beautiful deep

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notch between his collarbones. Next time Gustav’s lips wanted to

perform the deed.

The watching guards signaled their agreement. Ivar crowed in

delight. “The final two hits for King Gustav! The match is finished.”

Panting deeply Tahir gazed at the sweat-soaked Gustav in sheer

admiration. “By the Burning Sand, I have never seen such a clever

move! Two hits in one move… amazing!” He decided to ask. “Is there

any chance to teach the move to me, Sire?”

The panting Gustav savored the admiration in those expressive

eyes. “It’s a western move and trust me, it is hazardous. The move is

almost impossible to learn yet your skill tells me you can master the

complexity.” Stepping close, Gustav held out his hand to Tahir. “Well

played, warrior, extremely well played. Your talent is deep-running.”

Their hands clasped and squeezed.

As their hands met, Gustav stared intently at Tahir and, for the

briefest of seconds, he allowed his true emotions to show. His

yearning welled up to flash at Tahir.

Tahir’s lips tightened in dismay. He quickly looked down at the

sweat-spattered sand. No. Did he see… he looked up and saw Gustav’s

quick wink. The king… no. He imagined the wink. The heat affected

his clear thinking. Why did King Gustav flirt with him? Impossible.

Instead of meeting Gustav’s bright gray-blue gaze, Tahir stared at the

trampled sand again. “Sire, I… thank you. You are every inch the

noble warrior. I realize why many people in my land no longer speak

basely of Astridia. A truly astute king rules here.”

“Good to hear you approve of my rule, Tahir Noname.” Gustav

released Tahir’s hand and beckoned to Ivar. “My captain, we have a

definite candidate for city guard instruction and perhaps beyond, eh?”

Ivar walked over and firmly poked one finger into Tahir’s leather-

covered chest. “Yes, I believe we do, Sire, after I knock the cocky

attitude out of him.”

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Instead of creating a flip reply, Tahir bowed respectfully. “I am

honored you deem me worthy, Sire, Captain. I hope my further

performances please your expectations.”

Gustav grinned in playful agreement. Indeed, he hoped Tahir’s

future performances pleased him, although he didn’t like how Tahir

avoided looking him the face. Suddenly the bold lad acted shy?

Gustav remembered the harsh Curamian religion embraced strict

rules. Why else would a no-named Curamian refuse the King of

Astridia’s obvious invitation? He needed to realize not every man

looked at other men in the same manner as he did. What a depressing

thought.

Gustav watched Ivar dismiss the recruit. Shrill war cries and

cheering congratulations greeted Tahir. Perhaps his initial invite

didn’t entice the warrior. Gustav shrugged and tried looking interested

in what Ivar said but his lusting mind still dwelled on the man

surrounded by his merry comrades.

Gustav decided time for a direct attack. If Tahir refused his

advances, Gustav would know the truth. What a waste.

THE PROTEST

Gustav rinsed off his aching body in a quiet lower chamber. How

marvelous to run cool water over his protesting muscles. Shameful.

Muscles that once endured grueling battles whined about a simple

duel. The ruler might not look his age, but when pushed too far, his

body treated him to physical torment.

A mocking voice rolled against his naked back. “Tell me, since

when does the mighty King of Astridia trust an unknown Curamian

chit to share his bed?”

Controlling his irritated groan Gustav glanced up to see Ainar

indolently leaning against the stone wall. His senior advisor looked

like a relaxed lion about to pounce on a hare. Gustav held no patience

for the anticipated conversation to come. The king wanted to find a

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healer and enjoy a vigorous upper back rub. Gustav felt cranky, worn

out and old. Sad, how sad. What happened to him?

Easy. Age happened. His human blood defeated his small sacred

blessing. The blood strengthened him during his long exile to gather

loyal forces. The power did not render him immortal.

Gustav blinked his lashes in arch confusion. “Whatever do you

imply?”

Ainar rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Please, my friend, don’t use

the innocent act on me. How sickening. Did you pause to wonder why

this recruit appeals to you? Is he a devious trap, an assassin wrapped

in succulent, dark flesh? What do we know of this Curamian?”

In order to hide his teasing smirk, Gustav buried his wet face in a

towel. He spent too much time drying his face until he ran the towel

over his hairy chest and gazed at his concerned advisor. “Let’s see, his

name is Tahir. Interesting name — reminds one of an exotic fantasy.

He admits to having a grandfather but not a father. The man claims he

wants to create his own last name. Either he’s running away from his

past or he’s a bastard son seeking his own fortune. Tahir is a damned

talented swordsman, shame about his easily sparked temper, although

that’s not unusual for a Curamian. They are impetuous hotheads,

much like a certain stubborn advisor I know. Most importantly I know

Tahir owns divine cheekbones begging to be licked by my

appreciative tongue.” Before Gustav halted his smirk the expression

returned in force.

Ainar’s stony tone attacked Gustav. “Since you think with your

cock your mind refuses to listen to reason.”

What a low remark. Gustav angrily tossed the damp towel aside.

His voice shaded into regal coldness. “Ainar, I never think with my

cock.”

“When you try and seduce a unknown Curamian, I damn well

know you think with something other than your intelligent brain.”

Ainar raised his hands in mocking resignation. “Over the past three

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years you have thought more with your cock than your intellect. Pity,

I never thought Gustav Athlan, the Chosen Uniter after the Red War,

wielder of Stormcaller, would turn into one of those randy kings who

lives strictly for fleshy pleasures. Congratulations, you proved me

wrong. Ever since Aglaia rejected you, you…”

Before Ainar continued, he found himself nose to nose with a

deadly furious king. “Ainar, you are my dearest, eldest friend. Aside

from Julius, and Jan, I trust your advice above all. But you will not

speak ill of my wife.”

“I do not speak ill of her, you lust-ridden dolt! I state fact. This

nonsense started during her pregnancy with your last adorable girls. I

am far from unobservant! You acted subtle at first. Once Aglaia

delivered those babies, any handsome form you spied entered your

bed. I realize you enjoyed male companionship before your marriage

and the detail matters not to me. What matters are your rash choices!

Pick a lad, adore him, do what you want, but pick someone to enjoy a

relationship with, not a pleasing male body who feels excited when

the king singles him out to play hide the cock.” Ainar poked a stiff

finger into Gustav’s angry face. “Find someone sensible who lasts

more than two lust-struck weeks. That is what I say to you.”

Red fury inflamed Gustav’s mind. His large fist rose in attack. His

hand quivered. His entire body shook in rage. “How dare you speak

such words to me! This discussion is ridiculous. I…” Heaving a gut-

wrenching sigh Gustav swept his towel from the stone bench. He

abruptly sank down. A long, slow headshake followed until he rubbed

his palms over his cheeks. His fingernails yanked his neat goatee.

Self-inflicted pain always calmed him down. “My friend, cease

glaring darts at me. You hurt my royal ego. Grand, you are correct. I

confess to my stupid choices. I think with my cock because I’m

lonely.” A crooked smile graced Gustav’s face. “Is it public

knowledge I no longer share my queen’s bed?”

“Not at all. Those who love you understand the problem.” Ainar

relented and sat next to his king. His large hand soothingly squeezed

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Gustav’s broad, naked shoulder. “My friend, you married her from a

sense of duty. I understand.”

Gustav despised his voice’s haunted tone. “But I love Aglaia since

she is an excellent mother to our children. We’re friends and

confidants.” His voice trailed into a strangled sigh. “My touch never

brought her true pleasure, damn, I tried, but she is female. At least I

performed well enough to produce our heirs. At least I gave her our

children to love.” Gustav shook his head. “I gave her leave to take

lovers. She acted most insulted. I hate to say it but my delicate Aglaia

is a dream made into shimmering, soft flesh. Although beautiful

dreams can be made into flesh, it doesn’t mean they enjoy the flesh.”

Ainar let the silence wrap around them. He cleared his throat.

“Does… erm, Aglaia know about your… well…”

“My lads? Absolutely. She is a dream but not a dreamer. Call us

decadent but Aglaia’s attitude is enjoy your lads. As long as I explore

my lads, I do not shame her. She understands my need. How practical

of her, eh? She’s sensible like her father although if Julius knew how I

failed her, he’d probably banish the sacred blood from me and turn me

into a battered old prune.

“Ainar, mark me as insane, but there’s something different about

this intriguing man. Tahir means me no harm. I embrace the truth. His

arrogance tells me if Tahir is a bastard son, he’s a son of nobility.

Nothing else explains his cocky attitude and his desire to hide.” A low

laugh escaped Gustav’s lips. “You’ll be happy to hear our Noname’s

desire is lacking; after my win, I flirted with him and he refused to

meet my gaze. I felt like a piece of the damned wall! How depressing.

When I become depressed why goodness, I snap my fingers and haul

the first man I see into my cold bed.” Gustav leered at his friend. “I

might decide to have my way with you, old one.”

Despite the serious situation, Ainar laughed in amazement. “My

king, if you try I might decide to see how hard I can hit your jaw. I

hardly plan to be your conquest. I realize your royal ego cannot accept

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this fact, but this old bachelor loves you as a friend and no more. I

enjoy dealing with one manly sword, namely mine.”

“Ah yes, the fair Lady Glorianna acts tolerant of your declared

bachelor status.”

“Of course she does. She is a wise woman.”

The two friends laughed again. Gustav shook his head. “For now

I’ll restrain myself to chastely lusting after this perfect man. I might

last all of three days then… I make no promises.”

“I am agreeable to your plan. Try to wait for more than three

days.” Ainar held out his hand toward Gustav. They clasped hands.

Ainar winked. “Let the games begin.”